


Operation Swashbuckle

by stubblesandwich



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Captain Beauty, Captain Book, Captain Cobra - Freeform, Captain Swan - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, cs cuteness, people loving on Killian Jones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 18:53:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8589799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stubblesandwich/pseuds/stubblesandwich
Summary: Henry decides that after three hundred years, it’s time Hook celebrated his birthday. Set at some vague point in the near-ish future of the show.





	

“You want to throw Hook a birthday party?” Snow asked.

 

“Yeah,” Henry said. He shuffled his feet a bit, hands stuffed into his pockets. “Belle and I thought it would be nice. You know, with everything going on around here, it would be a good distraction. Or something.” 

 

David piped up from his position near the sink, where he was drying dishes with a hand towel. “Isn’t he like, three hundred?”

 

Henry shrugged. “I don’t know. I think so? I kind of left that up to my mom to find out. To be honest, I’m not even sure Hook knows how old he is anymore. He probably stopped counting after about one hundred.” 

 

David gave a thoughtful look and nodded in agreement. “Fair enough,” he said. “I guess I probably would, too. Either way, that’s a lot of candles." 

 

"Curses make everything confusing,” Snow added, as she took one of David’s dry dishes to put away. “I think everyone in Storybrooke is technically twenty-eight years older than they think they are.” 

 

“Okay, this is giving me a headache,” David said, shaking his head. 

 

“Right,” Henry said, “Anyway, you guys in?" 

 

"Of course,” David and Snow said in unison. David gave his wife a fond smile before adding, “Just let us know what we can do. Your grandmother is great with decorating. I’m always good for a distraction. This is a surprise party, right?”

 

Henry grinned. “You know it!" 

+++

Henry’s first thought was accurate: Killian didn’t know how old he was. He knew his birthday, of course, and the year he was born, but each realm was different, and curses and Neverland made things complex, to say the least.

 

Emma had done her best, without being overtly obvious, to try to fish around for his age during her lunch date with Killian. She was unsuccessful. All of their previous conversations regarding how old he was had been in jest, which made a true conversation difficult, without Emma coming right out and saying, "Hey, my family wants to throw you a birthday party. How many dozens of candles are we talking, here?" 

 

Emma Swan was many things, but subtle was not one of them. When she reported back to Henry for an update on Operation Swashbuckle sans information, he relieved her of her mission and decided he was going to take over. Hook had promised to take him sailing that afternoon; Henry would do some fishing of his own then. 

+++

The October air was brisk, but it hadn’t yet crossed over into being frigid. Not for Henry, anyway. As for Hook, Henry was fairly certain the pirate was impervious to the cold. Before donning modern attire, Hook had spent Elsa’s frozen winter wearing the same leather getup he wore in the heat of summer, his bare chest half exposed to the elements.

 

Henry stood at the wheel, holding its spokes as Hook had shown him long ago on their first sailing lesson. Hook, out of habit, was inspecting the horizon with his spyglass.

 

"So,” Henry started, once they had made it out of the harbor, “You’ve got a birthday coming up." 

 

Hook gave a low chuckle, nodding as he pushed the spyglass closed against his hip and pocketed it. "Aye, that I do." 

 

"My mom told me,” Henry added, trying not to draw suspicion. “Do you usually do anything for your birthday?" 

 

A briefly mournful look came into Killian’s eyes, and it certainly didn’t go unnoticed by Henry, even as Killian attempted to cover it up with a smile. "You know, lad, I can’t say I do. Truth is, I often don’t realize the date has come and gone until weeks after." 

 

"Really?” Henry asked, incredulous. “You forget your own birthday? So, no big parties here on the Jolly, then?" The idea was completely foreign to Henry. Ever since he could remember, his mom–Regina–had made an extravagant ordeal out of each of his birthdays, including inviting the entire town to parties, which he had often suspected the townspeople thought of as mandatory.

 

Hook shook his head. "Not even one. I never told my crew when it was my birthday and they certainly didn’t ask." 

 

They were silent for a few minutes, save for a few gentle reminders from Hook about keeping a straight posture as Henry manned the wheel. Henry had slipped deep into thought, wondering how he was going to bring up the subject again when it clearly wasn’t one Killian was interested in discussing. 

 

When Hook spoke up again, Henry jumped in surprise, nearly letting go of the wheel. "October hasn’t exactly proven itself to be a good month for me,” he said. “In decades past, I wasn’t a very pleasant captain to work for this time of year." 

 

"What do you mean?” Henry asked. 

 

Hook was silent for several more minutes. Henry was sure he had spoken loud enough to be heard over the sound of the water, but he was about to repeat himself when Hook clarified. “My brother,” he said. “He died around this time, many years ago. Somehow, I always seem to remember that date without any trouble." 

 

Henry felt his stomach flip with guilt. "I’m sorry,” he said, not sure of what else he could say. 

 

“Not your fault, lad,” Hook said, offering him a reassuring smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Liam died within a week of my birthday. I stopped counting them after that, to be honest. Just wasn’t on my mind anymore. I suppose I could do some math and figure it all out, but time between realms is a bit murky. Especially when trying to factor in Neverland. I doubt your father knew his exact age, either." 

 

"Yeah,” Henry said, thoughtful. “Probably not. But you’re older than him, right?" 

 

"I had at least a few decades on him,” Hook said. “Why so curious today, lad?”

 

“No reason,” Henry said, trying not to answer too quickly. “I just like planning ahead. Just trying to figure out what I should get an old man like you for your birthday. Maybe a walker?” He gave Hook’s shoulder a nudge. 

 

“Cheeky,” Hook said, returning the smirk Henry offered him. “Lad, days like today are gift enough to me." 

 

Henry felt his heart swell a little at Killian’s admittance. Hook’s eyes were planted to the horizon ahead of them, but Henry could feel him looking at him when he thought Henry wasn’t paying attention. Every time he did, Henry’s mouth twitched upward in a smile. 

+++

"So?” Belle asked. She and Henry were by themselves in the library, but Belle was still leaning in, her voice just a notch above a whisper.

 

“No one can hear us, Belle,” Henry said. “It’s just us in here." 

 

"Oh, I know that,” she said, her cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. “But what’s the fun of getting to be a part of my first secret mission with its very own code name if I can’t whisper?”

 

“Fair enough,” Henry said. “Okay, what intel have you gathered?" 

 

"Well,” Belle started, as if reading off a mental list in her head, “Your mother said Killian likes rum raisin ice cream.”

 

“That figures,” Henry said.

 

“He doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but he does enjoy chocolate cake. I know that much from our time together.”

 

“Okay, that’s easy,” Henry said. “Granny is on baking duty. What else?”

 

“David tried to figure out his favorite color yesterday, and I don’t think he got very far with that one. I was thinking we could do streamers." 

 

"Yes!” Henry said, “Perfect." 

 

Belle’s soft smile was proud. "Emma told me he likes red. David said his favorite color must be black, since that’s all he wears, but I don’t think black and red would look very cheery. So, I was thinking maybe navy, or a nice blue." 

 

"Great,” Henry said. “I’m sure they’ll have all that stuff on Amazon.” They couldn’t exactly send people across the town line to the nearest party store to pick things up. Belle offered to pay for the bulk of the decorations, saying she still felt guilty her husband had made some very colorful threats to Hook when he was letting her stay on the Jolly Roger. Henry assured her that wasn’t necessary, but she insisted. 

 

“Oh, candles,” Belle said. “I almost forgot. Did you find out how old old he is?”

 

Henry shook his head. “Kind of. I think the general consensus is three hundred." 

 

Belle gave an appreciative whistle. "Three hundred? I suppose I never knew he and Rumple were so close in age.”

 

“Wow,” Henry said. “I guess I hadn’t thought of it like that.” It was strange, and he didn’t want to dwell long on the fact that his mother’s boyfriend was nearly as old as his grandfather. Not that it made a difference, really, but it was odd when put so bluntly. 

 

A far away look had crossed over Belle’s face as her husband had entered their conversation, and for a moment, she was somewhere else. Then, she shook her head briefly before giving a nod. “Well, three hundred years is a great reason to throw a party." 

+++

In the end, it was a much larger event than Henry had anticipated, or even planned for. Random townspeople were stopping him on the street, asking about party details and what they could bring. Henry felt like he was living in a constant state of anxiety and dread that Leroy would find out and shout the whole thing across town, decimating the surprise. 

 

It was Emma’s job to keep Killian distracted and away from the center of town during the party setup on his actual birthday. This was done easily enough, despite the fact that they had a standing lunch order for pickup from Granny’s on Fridays.

 

Killian, for his part, seemed none the wiser. If he knew it was his birthday, he didn’t let on in any way. In all likelihood, he had forgotten the date altogether. When Emma suggested they take her lunch break out to sea and enjoy part of their day eating on his ship, he was more than eager to comply. Neither mentioned the significance of the date. 

 

Belle had taken the time to make a birthday banner, which showed her usual thoughtfulness and care. Two simple sail boats made of construction paper were taped to each end, the middle of it reading "HAPPY 300TH BIRTHDAY, KILLIAN” in large, pretty letters. A few of the dwarves were helping her hang it up, as Belle stood back to survey her handiwork and ensure it wasn’t hung lopsided. 

 

“You know,” David said, from up atop a ladder where he was putting up streamers. “It’s times like these I wish the old Snow White cartoon was more accurate. I could really use those birds right now to help put up these streamers.”

 

“Hey now,” Snow said, looking up at him as she steadied the base of the ladder. “You’re doing great! You’ve only dropped that roll twice.” David heaved a sigh. 

 

The bell above the door gave a chipper little ring as Henry came back in, phone in hand.

 

“Okay,” he said, loud enough for the whole room to hear. “My mom said they’re planning to be back in the harbor within fifteen minutes or less, and she’ll bring him here for dinner. She doesn’t think he has a clue what’s going on.” 

 

As much as he was looking forward to doing this for Hook, Henry would be happy when it was all over. 

 

 

Just when he thought things were going to pan out smoothly from there, Granny burst out from the kitchen area, making its western saloon-style doors swing out and smack against the counter loudly. 

 

“All right,” she said, her voice commanding. “Make way for the cake, people! Who’s on candle duty? I don’t think we’re gonna fit three hundred of ‘em on this puppy, but we can sure try." 

 

"Holy cow,” Snow started, as she darted over to help Granny, who looked as if she were about to buckle beneath the weight of the cake. David clutched the top of the ladder as it began to wobble, steadying himself as his support abandoned him. 

 

Snow slipped behind the counter, grabbing the other side of a cake so enormous, it was a true wonder Granny had been able to find a pan–or even an oven, for that matter–to bake it in. “You weren’t kidding when you said make way!” Snow said, huffing under the weight of it. 

 

“It only took me all day,” Granny said. “Harder to get stuff baked around here with Red off in Oz, but I managed. This thing’s a beast!" 

 

Henry gaped as they brought it around the counter. It truly was colossal, nearly enough to feed the entire town. Whatever flavor it was, he couldn’t tell, but he assumed it was chocolate. The cake itself was hidden beneath literal waves of icing. Whoever had done the decorating portion had gone above and beyond, creating a replica of a stormy sea with frosting. There were several different shades of blue, mimicking the ocean perfectly and an exact, small-scale replica of the Jolly Roger cutting across the middle of the cake. Henry peered closer as it passed him, half expecting a tiny Captain Hook to be at the ship’s helm. 

 

"Whoa,” Henry said, unable to help himself. “That’s amazing! Granny, did you do all that?”

 

“Well, no,” Granny said, “Truth be told, I didn’t do much of the decorating. But I had a hell of a time getting this thing in and out of the oven.”

 

“I believe it,” David said from his perch on the ladder.

 

“Then who…?” Henry started. He paused when he saw Regina push open the kitchen doors and stroll out. She smiled gently when she caught Henry’s eye. “Mom?” he said. “You did that? That’s amazing! I never knew you could do that kind of stuff!" 

 

Regina’s expression turned slightly sheepish as everyone began to crowd around the cake, admiring it vocally. "Well,” she said, “Magic can do a lot in the kitchen, as it turns out." 

 

Henry beamed at her. "That is completely awesome. Seriously. You should have your own baking show." 

 

"Oh, yes!” Snow piped up. “Cake Queen!" 

 

Regina looked about to blush. "Really,” she said, “It’s nothing. I just thought about what Hook might like and it was easy to manipulate the icing.” 

 

Almost as if to show him, she turned toward David, palm facing out. With a wave of her hand, the streamers vanished from David’s grip, turning into a puff of purple smoke in his hand. The streamers shot out across the rest of the restaurant, the colors intertwining themselves in a helix shape across the room as the strips of blue and red paper seamlessly twisted and curled around the rest of the room.

 

“Okay,” David said, as he started down the ladder. “We should have called you hours ago.”

 

“Oh, Regina,” Belle said, “That looks wonderful." 

 

"Thanks, mom,” Henry said. As if on cue, his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was Emma, giving him the heads up that they had docked. “All right, everyone!’ Henry called out. "They’re almost here! Finish what you’re doing and find a place to hide!”

+++

It wasn’t a far walk from the docks back to the center of town, to Granny’s. Truth be told, it wasn’t a far walk from the docks to anywhere in Storybrooke. That was one of the things Emma loved most about the town. Initially, its modest size was, ironically, daunting to her. She had always felt comfortable in cities, where there were more than two restaurants and she could go places without people knowing who she was. She could blend in, and run when anyone tried to get too close. 

 

Here, in the insane town she now called home, it was the complete opposite. She had once felt uncomfortable in her own skin, claustrophobic from seeing the same faces and the same shops day after day. But now, after everything, she wouldn’t have it any other way. She knew people here, and they openly loved her. Many had come to know and love Killian, as well, forgiving his many misdeeds, and that warmed her heart.

 

Several times over their day, she’d nearly ruined the surprise. Once, Killian had asked her what she wanted to do with the rest of their evening, and she had felt the phrase, “Well, after the party–” start to jump from her mouth. 

 

Fumbling awkwardly with her words, she had ended up going with, “Well, after the part–uh, the part… where we get back to the harbor, um, I don’t know.” Killian had tilted his head quizzically. Emma stammered on, willing the blush back from her cheeks. “Whatever you want to do is fine." 

 

"Darling,” he had said, leaning in to kiss the tip of her nose. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’d gotten into the captain’s rum." 

 

Surprisingly, they hadn’t dipped into the rum yet. She had gotten into the captain’s pants, however. Distracting him had been the easiest–and most fun–way to spend the day. At the time, she had to appreciate the irony of someone getting birthday sex without even remembering it was his birthday. But soon, she had forgotten all about it–and her own name, for that matter–for hours. Several lazy, wonderful hours. 

 

The idea had been to keep Killian distracted and away from town–where apparently people were carrying balloons and gifts in broad daylight–during a late lunch and maybe an hour or two after. However, there was no such thing as a late lunch with someone as punctual as Killian, who was at the sheriff’s department doorstep at precisely 11:45am, lunch in hand. 

 

So, she had to improvise. And frankly, it had been a while since they had been able to get some alone time in, what with a new town crisis evolving every other day. Killian had asked her about extending her lunch break, to which she had said, "Screw it, I have plenty of vacation time stocked up. Actually, I’m pretty sure I’ve earned an entire year off by now. My dad can handle the town for a few hours." 

 

By the end of their very extended lunch break, Emma was starting to wonder whose birthday it was, after all. It had been a fantastic day. The thought of what awaited them back in town was all the more exciting. 

 

When Henry had come to her, asking if they could throw a birthday party for Hook, she had been flabbergasted at her son’s thoughtfulness. He and Belle had apparently been talking, somehow knowing Killian’s birthday was fast approaching. It was easily going to be the kindest and most memorable thing anyone else, besides her, had done for him within the last two centuries. 

 

Emma watched Killian as he adjusted the sails, admiring the way his muscles flexed beneath his shirt. He had shed his jacket, wearing just his waistcoat and long-sleeved dress shirt, the sleeves of which had been rolled to his elbows. "We’ll be back shortly, love,” he called to her. “Send your father one of those texting messages and apologize to him on my behalf for stealing you away for so long!" 

 

Emma giggled. She withdrew her phone and pretended to do just that, instead texting Henry that they were about to dock. "You can just call it a text, you know!” she said, shouting over the sound of the waves slapping the side of the ship. She had offered to take the healm, but Killian had insisted she relax and take advantage of the time away. She didn’t put up a fight. It was clear that while Killian did enjoy teaching her how to sail, being in full control of his own ship brought him a certain measure of serenity. Tasks he had once done daily now seemed reserved for weekends and special occasions, which she knew must often feel foreign to him. 

 

Killian grinned back at her, as he crossed over the deck to take the wheel again. “Duly noted!”

 

By the time they reached the docks, Emma was nearly starving again, complaining vocally, and instantly regretted the fact that they had walked to the harbor instead of driven. 

 

“Come on, love,” Killian said, taking her hand in his. “It’s not too far. You could call and get a dinner order ready for us, though." 

 

"Uhhh,” Emma started, quickly racking her brain for an excuse not to call Granny’s and potentially ruin the surprise she had fought so hard to keep, “No, it’s okay… I’m sure it will be fast." 

 

"But, you just said you were starving." 

 

"No, I didn’t.”

 

“You said, and I quote, 'Killian, I’m starving and I think my stomach is trying to eat my other organs.’" 

 

Emma huffed, trying to disguise a laugh. "Nope. I don’t remember any of that. I think you’ve finally gone senile, old man.” She prodded him in the side with her elbow, eliciting a laugh. They talked the rest of the way, walking hand in hook, and were back at the diner in record time.

 

As they approached the ivy-entwined fence surrounding the building, Killian paused. “Strange,” he said, “It’s completely dark." 

 

"Weird,” Emma said, trying to sound intrigued. She was terrible at keeping things from him and would be glad when she didn’t have to contain the surprise anymore. “The open sign is still lit. Maybe their light bulbs need changing? Let’s check." 

 

She tried not to cringe at how awkward she was sounding, but was thankful Killian knew very little about light bulbs and had no further questions. If he had any sort of suspicion of what he was walking into, he gave no tell. 

 

The bell above the door gave a little chirp as they entered, and then, for a few long moments, everything was still. Every light had been turned off. Daylight poured in from outside, but even so, everyone had hidden impressively well. Emma’s eyes scanned the room, but even she had no idea where anyone was hiding. 

 

A horrible thought filtered into her brain, and for one petrifying moment, she wondered if she had made a mistake and brought Killian to the wrong location.

 

Abruptly, the lights turned on, illuminating the room. Brightly colored balloons were clumped together in each corner; streamers hung across nearly the entire ceiling. It looked like a party store had thrown up and then exploded inside the diner, in the best of ways.

 

All at once, people rushed out from the kitchen area, shouting a big, booming chorus of, "SURPRISE!” A few stragglers crawled out from under booths. There were more people than Emma knew could even fit inside of Granny’s diner, let alone crammed into the back hall and kitchen area where most of them had hidden.

 

Killian visibly jumped, startling at the sudden onslaught of people and the noise of all of them shouting at him. Emma couldn’t stop the smile spreading over her face at his expression. He looked so concerned, borderline terrified, and it was clear he had no idea why there were so many people suddenly surrounding him. 

 

It dawned on her that it was possible Killian didn’t even know what a surprise party was. It was a relatively modern tradition, after all. She bumped his shoulder lightly with hers and pointed up at the birthday banner spanning the back wall. “It’s a surprise party,” she said, trying to shout above the noise of everyone clapping for him. “Happy birthday, Killian!” 

 

 

Killian looked utterly dumbfounded. His mouth was slack, eyes wide, and he was staring at Emma like she had just told him she was pregnant. Slowly, he took his eyes from her, surveying the room. A huge, childlike smile came over his face, and he began to laugh. Emma could feel him shake with laughter next to her, and she squeezed his hook tenderly.

 

Henry made his way through the crowd of people and clapped him on the shoulder. “Hey!” he said. “Happy birthday, old man!” 

 

“Thanks, lad,” Killian said. “Was this your idea?” 

 

“Mine and Belle’s," Henry said with a shrug in her direction. Belle blushed a bit and waved. 

 

"Henry,” Killian started, voice breaking around his words, “This is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

 

“It’s nothing,” Henry said, shrugging modestly, “We just wanted to do something nice for you. Plus, everyone likes a party, right?”

 

“Uh, yeah!” Emma said with a laugh. “The whole town’s here!” 

 

Snow and David worked their way through the crowed, squeezing in next to them. David clapped Killian on the shoulder, and Killian beamed back at him. Snow slipped a gift bag into Killian’s hand and promptly pulled him in for a hug. 

+++

Throughout the night, Emma’s eyes hardly strayed from Killian’s face. She just couldn’t get enough of the boyish smile he wore, and how easily his laughter flowed. 

 

She and her family stayed long into the evening, far past the time most of the townspeople had gone home. Granny eventually flipped the open sign, but assured them they had the place for as long as they liked. Even Regina stayed late, comfortably tucked into a booth with a martini in hand, talking to Belle.

 

Granny had begun wiping the bar as soon as the last big group of people trickled out, and Killian offered to help her immediately. 

 

“Sit down!” she told him. “You expect me to let you clean up after your own birthday party?” 

 

Killian put his hand up, conceding. Emma had to laugh at the image of an elderly woman ordering around a pirate who was more than two centuries her senior. She slipped in beside him, resting her head against his shoulder. He reciprocated, pressing his cheek to the top of her head, and she smiled against the tickle of his stubble. 

 

“Thank you, Swan.” 

 

She looked up at him, and his eyes were shining. 

 

“For what?” she asked, smiling gently at him. “This was all Henry and Belle’s idea.” 

 

“Yes,” he agreed, “But you certainly had a hand in it.” 

 

She gave a one-shouldered shrug and smirked up at him. 

 

“Besides,” he continued, as he reached down to take her hand in his, thumb tracing over her knuckle, “I wouldn’t have any of this if it weren’t for you.” He swallowed thickly, eyes flitting up to meet hers. “Thank you.” 

 

It only took a moment for her to search his eyes and recognize everything he was feeling. She knew too well what it was like to be on the outskirts for years, wondering if she would ever have anyone in her life who cared about her. Henry had brought her home, to her family.

 

And now, a three-hundred-year-old pirate had found that, as well. 

 

The thought brought tears to her eyes, and she didn’t bother blinking them back. “You’re welcome,” she whispered. “Happy birthday, Killian.”


End file.
